“Stop, I must ask the conjuror,” said Little Claus; so he trod on the bag,
and stooped his ear down to listen.
“What does he say?”
“He says that you must go and open that large chest which stands in the
corner, and you will see the evil one crouching down inside; but you must
hold the lid firmly, that he may not slip out.”
“Will you come and help me hold it?” said the farmer, going towards the
chest in which his wife had hidden the sexton, who now lay inside, very
much frightened. The farmer opened the lid a very little way, and peeped in.
“Oh,” cried he, springing backwards, “I saw him, and he is exactly like
our sexton. How dreadful it is!” So after that he was obliged to drink again,
and they sat and drank till far into the night.
“You must sell your conjuror to me,” said the farmer; “ask as much as
you like, I will pay it; indeed I would give you directly a whole bushel of
